They materialized in the center of a vast hall, flooded with cold blue light. The architecture here was radically different from the ostentatious luxury of the devils. High ceilings of dark metal, a smooth, almost mirror-like floor, walls covered with panels beneath which complex circuitry could be discerned, faintly pulsing with energy. This was not the lair of sinister creatures, but rather the terminal of a futuristic spaceport—functional and soulless. Several armed guards in high-tech armor, stationed along the walls, followed them with impassive gazes, though a slight tension could be read in their postures.
"Oof... We have arrived!" Azazel exhaled triumphantly, nearly toppling sideways. Mika, his faithful assistant, was struggling to hold her superior up; her face expressed cosmic weariness. "My home, my fortress! So, what do you think, Jin? Impressive? None of those golden toilets and velvet curtains those aristocrats have. Only pure science and..." he glanced around, "...and a bit of dust. I'll have to ask Shemhazai to tidy up."
Jin remained silent, trying to regain his balance. His head was pounding, but his crystal-clear mind, accustomed to control, was already analyzing the surroundings. He could feel a powerful background of magical and, far more interestingly, technological energy. This place was steeped in experiments, failures, and brilliant breakthroughs.
"Azazel-sama, your quarters, as you ordered, are ready," Mika reported in an even tone, dragging him toward one of the corridors.
"Quarters? What quarters?" he objected. "We have a guest! An important guest! We are going to the holy of holies! My laboratory! I've got a bottle of 'Phoenix Ash' stashed there, a vintage from the last century. I must treat a friend!"
Mika sighed heavily. Arguing with the drunken Governor-General was futile and hazardous to one's career.
"As you command, Azazel-sama."
She led them down another corridor; Jin followed, trying not to bump into the wall. Azazel, seizing the opportunity, launched into an impromptu tour.
"Here, look at this!" He jabbed a finger at a large glass flask containing something gelatinous and pulsating. "My attempt to create a domesticated magic-devouring slime. Theoretically, it was supposed to eat enemy spells. Practically, it devoured half of my expensive ingredients and had sex with a staff member. A failed experiment."
Jin glanced briefly at the wobbling mass and grunted.
"And this!" Azazel pointed to a stand where a half-melted piece of metal, vaguely resembling a gauntlet, lay on a velvet cushion. "A prototype of an artificial Boosting Gear. We tried to recreate Ddraig's power without Ddraig. In the end, it boosted itself to infinity and exploded, taking out three floors of the lab. But what a firework display it was!"
They passed dozens of similar "exhibits," each a monument to genius bordering on madness. Finally, Mika stopped before a massive armored door.
"Azazel-sama, we have arrived."
"Excellent!" He pushed away from her and, stumbling into the room, spread his arms triumphantly. "Welcome to my chaos, Jin!"
The laboratory matched its owner. A huge room cluttered with everything imaginable. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with artifacts, books, and disassembled mechanisms. Several holographic screens flickered in the air, displaying complex formulas and schematics, which were periodically replaced by... images of half-naked anime girls. Empty sake bottles, pizza boxes, and tools littered the floor. In the center stood an enormous worktable, where a half-eaten bowl of noodles sat next to a high-precision spectrometer. And in the midst of all this chaos stood a comfortable leather sofa, strewn with cushions and various blueprints.
"Make yourself at home!" Azazel flopped onto the sofa, raising a cloud of dust. "Mika-chan, my treasure, bring us the 'Ash'! It's in the far safe, code '6969'."
Mika, throwing a withering glance at him, departed silently. Jin sank into the armchair opposite, looking around with curiosity. This place was alive. It breathed with ideas, failures, and a tireless thirst for knowledge.
Mika returned with a dusty bottle of dark glass and two glasses. She silently poured the amber liquid, set the glasses on the blueprint-strewn table, bowed, and withdrew, apparently deciding to leave them alone with their drinking.
"Well, to our meeting!" Azazel proclaimed, raising his glass.
Jin took his. The drink was stronger and more aromatic than the sake, with notes of smoke and something bittersweet. They drank, and the conversation flowed on its own, lazily and incoherently, as befits such a state. Azazel switched from scientific theories to more mundane topics.
"Speaking of my charges," he squinted slyly, looking at Jin. "About your... performance in the corridor. You scared my girls, Reynalle and Mittelt, half to death. What was that about?"
Jin shrugged lazily, taking a sip. The alcohol warmed him pleasantly from within, but didn't cloud his thoughts entirely.
"They looked like they'd forgotten the lesson I taught them in Kuoh," his voice was even, but there was a coldness in it that didn't match his drunken languor. "Just refreshed their memory."
"Refreshed, you say?" Azazel smirked. "Looked to me like you nearly gave them a heart attack. They'll be flinching at your shadow from now on. Isn't that a bit too harsh for a couple of broken little birds?"
"They're not broken. They're predators just licking their wounds. Give them a chance, and they'll sink their teeth into someone's throat again," Jin set his glass down. "I didn't do anything to them. Just... reminded them. Let them remember what happens next time if they try to punch above their weight again."
Azazel stared at him in silence for a few seconds, then burst out laughing.
"I like you, kid! However, one thing's been nagging at me."
He leaned forward, his drunken gaze becoming surprisingly serious.
"I've been thinking... while we were on our way here. About your hypothesis. That heresy you spouted at the spring. You didn't just ask that out of nowhere, did you? About the fusion of soul and power..."
Jin raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue.
"I said it was impossible. And I wasn't lying. At least, within the framework of our reality. You see, it's not just a technical difficulty. It's a fundamental law laid into the foundation of the universe after... one major failure."
He fell silent, fixing Jin with a heavy, drunken, but piercing stare.
"And that's why, when you asked your question... when you suggested such a being might be possible... I want to know. Were you simply theorizing, or do you know something? Were you serious, Jin?"
Jin was lying on the lab table, where he had moved from the armchair. He propped his head up with one hand; the other hung limply down. His eyes were half-closed; he seemed about to fall asleep.
He slowly raised his other hand, the one that had been dangling, and, without changing his posture, pointed lazily at himself with his thumb.
"Ta-daaa," he drawled, his voice barely audible.
Azazel froze. Then he burst into deafening laughter, nearly falling off the sofa.
"Aha-ha-ha! Jin, you... you're a genius! Excellent joke!" He wiped away a tear. "Oh, you got me..."
"I'm not joking," Jin said, just as quietly but absolutely seriously, opening his eyes and looking straight at him.
Azazel's laughter cut off. He looked into Jin's violet eyes. There was no joke in them. Only drunken fatigue and a statement of fact. The Fallen Angel's heart skipped a beat. Nonsense. Drunken nonsense. But... what if?
"You..." Azazel rose with difficulty. He was swaying, but a feverish spark appeared in his gaze—that of a scientist stumbling upon an unthinkable discovery. "Are you saying... that you..."
"Check," Jin threw out just as lazily and closed his eyes, as if losing interest. "You've got plenty of toys here."
Azazel froze. Check? It was madness. But the temptation was too great. Even if this was just a drunken prank, the data would be interesting.
"Alright," he muttered, his hands trembling slightly. "Alright, jokester. Let's see what my 'Soul Resonance Analyzer' shows. Just don't move."
He walked over to one of the consoles and pressed several buttons. A complex mechanism descended from the ceiling, resembling a hoop with dozens of lenses and sensors. It hovered over Jin, who was lying on the table.
"This will tickle a little," Azazel warned, pressing the main button.
The hoop flared with a soft blue light, and thin, almost invisible beams began scanning Jin's body. Data flickered across the main holographic screen: physical parameters, energy levels, magical resistance...
Physical Condition: Peak. Cellular regeneration exceeds standard indicators by 10,000 times.Magical Resistance: Absolute.Energy Source: Unidentified. Nature...
The data on the screen suddenly dissolved into static. Then a red warning filled the entire display.
WARNING! CONCEPTUAL PARADOX DETECTED!SYSTEM REBOOT REQUEST... DENIED. ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.
Azazel stared at the screen, and the alcohol instantly evaporated from his bloodstream. The bottle of "Phoenix Ash" slipped from his weakened hand and shattered against the floor with a dull thud, spreading into a precious puddle. He didn't notice. His eyes were glued to the lines on the screen.
Entity. Object.
He staggered and leaned against the table to keep from falling. Fragments of ancient texts he had studied for millennia in the celestial archives surfaced in his mind. Records of his Father's greatest and most tragic experiment. "Project Adam." An attempt to create a being in whom power would not be a guest in the body, but its very essence. An attempt that ended with the creation of two "fragments"—humanity, capable of receiving power, and the Sacred Gears, that power itself.
A failure. An absolute, fundamental failure.
But the data on the screen screamed otherwise. Before him, on his very own lab table, drunk and, it seemed, already asleep, lay not just an "anomalous" human.
Before him lay living, breathing proof that the impossible was possible. That someone. Somewhere. In some inconceivable way... had succeeded where God Himself had failed.
"No... it can't be..." Azazel whispered, his voice trembling. He looked from the screen to the serene face of the sleeping Jin.